Madness Is Like Gravity
by IndianaBelle
Summary: If madness is like gravity, then it's always in motion. Sequel to "You Just Couldn't Let Me Go." You don't have to read my first story to get this one
1. City of Delusion

**So, I started on the sequel to "You Just Couldn't Let Me Go" and I felt like I had to publish it. Don't worry, I'm still not done with the first story and I'm not publishing more of this until I'm done ;) **

Commissioner Jim Gordon scratched his head as he threw another stack of papers into the trash. He always hated cleaning his office desk each month, especially when he found copies of files from past criminals. He tried numerous times leaving the city of Gotham, but was drawn to the fact of making it a better place for his kids and the future. He knew it would never be at peace nor would it ever be criminal free, but there was just something holding him back from leaving.

Gordon took out the last manila folder sitting in the bottom drawer, examining it carefully, it was unlike the rest. This folder was worn out from being opened and used so many times. It was the thickest folder he had ever seen, with scratches, dirt and markings all over the front of it. Newspaper clips, pictures, brief statements and crumpled looking papers that were shoved in roughly were sticking out. He knew this folder better than anyone else. He could practically recite every detail in it to anyone who asked. It was the folder he could never bring himself to throw away. It was the folder that he knew he would unfortunately need to open again one day despite his deepest desires of setting it on fire.

"Jim?"

Gordon dropped the manila folder back into the drawer and looked up. Detective Stephens was standing in front of his door holding two cups of coffee.

"Sorry, got a bit distracted." Gordon mumbled as he stood up to meet his friend at the door way.

Stephens gave Gordon a cup, "Looking at his file again?" His voice was sympathetic and held a tiny hint of guilt.

Gordon nodded and weakly smiled, "I can never bring myself to toss it. There are still so many unanswered questions –"

"Jim," Stephens interrupted, "you don't need to give me an explanation. You have every right to keep it."

"I guess you're right." Gordon shrugged.

He knew that throwing the file away would be foolish, though he liked the reassurance others gave him to keep it. He could never imagine that such a file, a small, square, office file would give him such hatred and cause his soul to burn. Just looking at the label of the file would make any normal human citizen with at least one ounce of emotion want to go on a rampage about the subject.

"Why don't you call it a day?" Stephens asked. He could tell the pain of the topic was causing Gordon to become uncomfortable, "We've got pretty much everything under control here."

Gordon nodded as he watched his good friend leave his office. He wasn't in the mood to clean anymore and already wanted to desperately go home and relax until tomorrows work.

He made his way over to his now clean and controlled desk as he grabbed his coat and wrapped it around his spotless uniform. As he stuffed his car keys in his pocket, Gordon's eyes fell upon a picture on the right side of his desk, outlined in a thick black frame.

Inside the frame was a picture of a delicate, beautiful, happy young girl. He remembered the picture being taken roughly three years ago in a family trip. Her smile was genuine, her eyes were full of love and it was the same picture that kept him stronger every day, but it was also the most painful. In it was a girl he feared he would never meet again. One who was treated like a rag doll for no reason at all. He knew where she was now was a much better place than Gotham City was to her, but that still didn't stop him from choking up every so often. Only a real monster could destroy something like her. Only a real monster would find the joy and laughter in destroying someone little by little until they were gone. Only a real monster would confess that he wanted to keep her for his own selfish reasons and never let her go.

Gordon could feel his temper rising again and knew that throwing a tantrum wouldn't be beneficial at the moment. With a heavy sigh, Gordon flicked off the lights in his office and gently closed the door behind him. He was going home, but a broken one it was.


	2. Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground

**I've rewritten this chapter like fifteen different times! How sad is that? I have the next few chapters done; I'm just tweaking them a little :) Thank you SO much to all of the readers/reviewers! Without you, I would be the only one reading these! I think we all need to go to Chicago in Spring 2011 and become extras in the next Batman film ;) **

**[Arkham Asylum]**

The storm-like weather only made the appearance of the infamous Arkham Asylum even more heart wrenching. Fall had violently struck the busy citizens of Gotham, though they were all too busy to notice the subtle, seasonal change. Trees were now in the vibrant colors of red, orange and brown, while the air was cold, crisp and constantly various shades of grey. It was always so strange how the weather of the city almost reflected the people that inhabited it. There were the good and the bad – no in between. You either were trying to shape up the city or trying to destroy it with drugs or petty crimes. After the infamous, long kidnapping of Commissioner Gordon's daughter, Samantha, there wasn't a civilian left who wasn't scared to the bone. Doors and windows were constantly being locked up every five minutes, more alarms were being inserted in houses and the Gotham City Police Department were receiving more emergency calls for every bump in the night a civilian heard. Now, it was over a year later and the hype of the kidnapping was slowly winding down. The only reason citizens felt safe enough to leave their houses at night was because the Prince of Chaos was not enjoying his own, private, padded cell.

Clutching her briefcase, quickly signed her name in at the main desk of Arkham. She had visiting almost every day that if it wasn't for legal reasons, there would be no reason for her to sign in as the staff all knew her. Her ambitious attitude was constantly keeping her at the Asylum for more hours than she pleased, but she promised Jim Gordon that she would figure out every, simple detail of the man behind the makeup.

Placing the pen back down, Dr. Holmes calmly made her way through the cold, concrete walls of the zoo they called Arkham. The staff was moving around in their crisp, clean white uniforms while holding manila folders in their hands. Pages for other doctors were being called over the intercom and the violent shouts of the inmates could be heard through the thick walls.

"Ms. Holmes," A polite and overly toned security guard smiled, as he held a door open for her.

Nodding, Dr. Holmes made her way into another hall way with the exact same interior design as the previous rooms she was in. She already knew where the "Evaluation" room was, she'd been spending so much time in that little square room she may as well just move in and call it home. The room was almost an exact replica of the GCPD interrogation room; dark, cold, barley lit, with only a desk and two chairs. Luxury wasn't an important factor the staff felt the inmates needed – or that they could easily make weapons out other furniture items.

"If you just want to have a seat and set up," The security guard spoke, "Patient 0801 is being brought down and will arrive shortly."

"Thank you," mumbled as the security guard shut the metal door.

Quickly reaching into her briefcase, she pulled out a stack of paper, files and a small tape recorder.

"Mental note," she softly spoke into the recorder, "get security tapes from evaluation at the end of the session."

A violent sound from her left cause Dr. Holmes to jump a little, as she noticed an even bigger security guard escorting an inmate. He was wearing the typical orange jumpsuit, with his hands handcuffed behind him and his hair was a dark blonde, curly mess with a tint of green. The most unsettling part was the condition of the man's face. Dr. Holmes still wasn't use to his almost "normal" look, as the asylum wouldn't allow makeup products to be distributed. His face was bare; the scars that winged out from his lips were completely visible and his deep, brown eyes looked almost black. Dr. Holmes wandered if she was the only person, aside from the staff and inmates, who'd seen him with no chalky, thick makeup on his face.

"Good evening, , you've come back for more I see," the inmate smirked.

"Sit down," The guarded spat as he forced the inmate into the seat across from Dr. Holmes.

Carefully watching the guard walk back out into the hall and take his position in front of the door, Dr. Holmes calmly pressed play on her tape recorder.

"September 2nd, Patient Unknown Name, Goes by the Joker, Interview of case number 133," Dr. Holmes slowly spoke.

"What should we discuss now doc? My comfortable cot here or the fact that you can't get enough of me?"

"We aren't here to talk about me Joker," Dr. Holmes glared, "you know exactly what we are going to discuss."

The Joker smiled, "That Gotham is once again becoming civilized now that I am locked up? You really don't believe-"

"Samantha Gordon." Dr. Holmes cut him off.

She was sick of wasting the days, trying to get him comfortable enough to open up about the girl he kidnapped. His mind was so complex, that he wouldn't just confess easily. But, her cat and mouse game was getting bitter and she was determined to get the Joker to talk about Samantha, even if it sent him into a rage."

The smile on the Jokers face disappeared completely and was replaced by a dissatisfied frown.

Though that only lasted a few seconds, he was quick to smile once again.

"Ah, my bride to be or, was my bride to be."

"Now, after watching the footage," Dr. Holmes ignored his previous remark, "from the day you kidnapped her, I understand you at first took her for sport. But why did you keep her for so long?"

"Why not? You've seen her," The Joker winked.

Note to self, Dr. Holmes thought, ignored wise cracking remarks and stay calm if you want to solve this case.

"Did you know she was Commissioner Gordon's daughter?"

"You're comparing her to him?" The Joker shook his head, "Now even I'm not cruel."

"Why keep her for so long? She wasn't helping you."

"With both her and Dent, there was no way I could pass up the chance to corrupt two good, high-ranking civilians."

tilted her head, "Dent controlled the courtrooms, and Samantha was just a student. Unless you were trying to change the captain of the track team then I don't get why you needed her."

"You really think Gordon had time to balance Samantha's case and the other Gotham chaos? Now that's what I call a good joke. That man can barely cover up his grey hair."

"She's dead because of you Joker-"

"No," He violently spat, "she's dead because you people wouldn't let me have her."

"Have her for what?"

"All I wanted was to have Samantha, but that was just too much to ask. Batman can prowl the night, but when one man takes one girl into his home, well the city just freaks out."

"You're not exactly a safe person for Samantha to be with."

"Or am I?" the Joker raised his eyebrows, "you really don't think the mob has infested the police and court system with their people?"

"How did you benefit by kidnapping her? Was it to get to Gordon?"

"Gordon was simply just a _perk_, in it. You're the doctor, aren't you? You tell me, in your psychological way, why I took her."

"Well, according to your file," Dr. Holmes flipped opened the first manila folder, "you just love chaos and complete anarchy."

The Joker leaned in, his face serious and his voice became low, "No, don't tell me what the law wants you to think. Why do _you _think I took her? You and I both know chaos wasn't my drug of choice."

Dr. Holmes shut the file and surprisingly took the Jokers question into serious, critical thinking. There was definitely more than the feel, no, the need of chaos from this man. She knew that part of taking Samantha was for the adrenaline rush, but keeping her for so long certainly wasn't for sport. Holmes thought about the Joker having feelings for her, though the Joker was too complex and figuring out that option was impossible. There was really only one other reasons the Joker was interested in keeping Samantha by his side for so long.

The Joker sat back as he watched the pieces click in Dr. Holmes head.

Looking up at him, Dr. Holmes confessed the only other rational option that came to mind.

"Someone was paying you."


	3. White Rabbit

Hello to ALL of my LOVELY readers! As you can see, I RE-DID chapter 3. I reread it and realized while it wasn't horrible, it doesn't make me feel accomplished. So, being inspired by all sorts of things, I decided to re-write it. What you already read is totally fine, it won't spoil the "new" coming chapters or anything. Enjoy and let me know what you think! Xo

**[Southern California]**

"I'm chasing after someone, but they are just a shadow," The brunette quietly spoke as she fiddled with the sleeves of her long, gray cardigan.

As she continued on with the story, her mind visually replayed it to her clearly.

"I continued to yell at them to stop running, but they wouldn't listen. The next thing I remember is being in a cold place, it looked like a chemical factory. It was dim, so I barely could see. I could hear footsteps behind me and I was too scared so I hid behind a tall vat. The closer the footsteps, the quieter, until I noticed men in clown masks running passed me. I watched as the disappeared from the room, thinking it was safe to come out."

Dr. Kane watched as the young brunette began to form tears in her eyes, she was trying so hard to hold them back.

"I was about to step out from my hiding spot," she continued, "Until I noticed someone slowly walking by in the same direction as the group of men. His clothes looked dark and he was playing with a switchblade in his left hand. Suddenly, he turned towards me and I knew who he was."

"Was he the man who hurt you two years ago?" Dr. Kane smoothly asked.

Looking around, the brunette simply nodded her head. The office she was currently sitting in was a like a second home to her. She memorized every groove on the maroon walls, where each brown piece of furniture sat, and the dozens of plants, pictures and pottery were neatly placed. The room use to be so foreign to her when she first attended almost two years ago, but now – it was comforting. It was the only place she could truly tell someone how she was feeling, her secrets weren't just hers to keep.

"Alison," Dr. Kane softly spoke, "it is only natural for someone who has been mentally abused to go through this. You are making fantastic progress; I can already see how strong you've become. It's normal to have these dreams, especially since you are leaving to go back home."

Weakly smiling, Alison once again nodded her head, "You know, Dr. Kane it's, I just find it odd."

Leaning back, Dr. Kane set his paper on the desk behind him, "And may I ask what?"

"I can't quit remember everything that happened."

"That's not unusual for situations like yours," smiled, "you can't remember because you've spent so much time trying to forget."

"Some of it is like a dream, I remember seeing it but physically nothing comes to mind."

"Alison," Dr. Kane stood up, "don't try and figure out what really happened and what didn't. You are finally free from this memory, live, go kiss a boy or go on a family vacation. Live, get back what you haven't had in two years."

Standing up, Alison grabbed her book bag and made her way over to the door, "Thanks , I feel a little better not holding this in."

"Well you should not have to deal with this alone."

Nodding her head in agreement, Alison opened the door and began to walk out.

"Remember," Dr. Kane abruptly said, causing Alison to turn around, "he can't harm you anymore, he's locked up for good."

Alison weakly smiled, knowing that Dr. Kane obviously had no idea who the infamous man who harmed her was.

Almost two years of her residence in the "new" city and she was still feeling like a complete stranger. Nobody knew her real reason for moving there, though using the excuse "I got a huge scholarship to this college" worked perfectly. The students couldn't tell what happened to her, the barista at her local coffee shop couldn't either, nobody could. She didn't mind though, the less she talked about her past the easier she had moving on.

**[Gordon Residence]**

"It's 9:13," Jim Gordon frantically said as he adjusted the silver watch on his wrist, "Nine o'clock was the time-"

"Jim," Barbara calmly said as she watched her husband nervously paced around the kitchen, "Stop worrying, everything is completely fine."

The smell of a luxurious breakfast filled the room and the dining room table was neatly decorated with plates and the best silverware the Gordon's had. The house smelled like a light pumpkin spice, with decorations of autumn trinkets from a local housing store and little pumpkins, an indication that October was finally here. Gotham's cold, overcast weather was once again casting its shadow on the city and the once summer sky was now turning darker and earlier in the night.

"What if something happened? How do we know that –"

"Sweetheart," Barbara abruptly cut off her husband, "Don't do this to yourself. We finally get to have things normal again here, let's not ruin it by worrying constantly."

Gordon half-smiled, still uneasy of the lateness of their early morning guest, "You're right. I'm just so overwhelmed."

"We all are," Barbara said kissing her husband on the cheek.

Before Gordon had the chance to help his wife finish their overindulging breakfast, the doorbell rang throughout their apartment. Turning to each other, Barbara and Jim grinned from ear to ear, their hearts anticipating with excitement .Jim quickly placed the spatula he once held in his hand and ran towards the door, preparing himself for the guest on the other side.

Carelessly throwing the door open, Jim Gordon couldn't remember the last time he felt so happy.

Throwing his arms around the young brunette, Gordon gave the biggest hug he could ever recall. Words couldn't describe the happiness he felt, overjoyed wasn't even enough. Part of him wanted to cry with tears of joy, but his mood was sending him so many emotions that he was having a difficult time sorting out what exactly he was feeling.

"Dad," the girl said, "You have no idea how much I have missed you."

"Samantha, this hasn't been home since you left."

Pulling away from the hug, Samantha's arms were still holding onto her father, "I'm back Dad and I want to be back for good."

Don't get too carried away," Jim smiled, "You my girl, are going to be overprotected whether you like it or not."


	4. Tomorrow Never Knows

Bruce Wayne | Batman will definitely be in this story a lot more. Like, tons. Harley Quinn maybe. I am still not a fan of hers.

Samantha pushed back a strand of hair as she made her way into her house, hugging each member of her family tightly. Her heart was racing from the excitement and nervousness she felt since the moment she stepped on the airplane. While some view Gotham as dangerous, Samantha would always view it as home – and no one could take that away from her. She spent the last two years trying to recollect her innocence and transform her mind into a place where _he _couldn't hurt her. Forgetting his presence, his words and her physical wounds wasn't easy, but she managed to rid most of them. Samantha knew of the cases where patients never recovered, where they were sent to the asylum in the midst of their craziness. Samantha swore she would never end up in one, posting pictures of her family everywhere she could was the reason she was so successful. She already lost her biological parents at a young age, there was no way she was going to those her parents again. Being brave was the attitude she strived for, being strong both physically and emotionally was another task she took on; all for the sake of returning to the place she use to call home.

"Here sweetheart, sit, sit. Any tea or coffee?" Jim Gordon politely escorted his daughter to the living room.

Samantha shook her head, slightly giggling at her father's hospitality, "I'm fine really. It's just, I'm back."

Sitting in the chair next to her, Jim grabbed his daughter's small hand, "Yes, you are Sammy. For good, too."

"So," Samantha smiled, "What have I missed besides a few birthdays? I'm sure the best commissioner Gotham has ever seen has been keeping the streets clean."

"More like the Batman," Jim teased, "without him we wouldn't have caught so many criminals."

"Ah, the famous dark knight is still terrorizing those petty criminals I see."

"Seems to be a pretty good gig, maybe I should become a masked vigilante," Jim winked.

Looking at her father, Samantha realized how much she missed him the most. He was so comforting to her, in every moment of terror Samantha faced; she always could count on her father to take the bad thoughts away. His blue eyes sparkled and his soft face showed traces of stress and smile lines. His grayish-brown hair was messy from running his hands through it so often. She never could comprehend how such a kind-hearted man was able to take on the task of correcting the city's crime sprees.

"So, sweetheart," Jim interrupted Samantha's thoughts, "Don't be afraid to say no, seeing as you just returned, but tomorrow Bruce Wayne is holding a charity even that is mandatory for me to attend. If you would like to go-"

"I'd love to," Samantha interrupted him, "anything to get back into a routine."

Gracefully entering the room, Barbara Gordon wiped her hands on the kitchen rag she was clutching, "Not to cut into bonding time but breakfast is almost ready. Why don't you put your stuff away in your room Sam?"

"Perfect idea," Samantha grinned, rising from the chair and picking up the suitcases she had brought with her.

Pushing the wooden door, Samantha felt a new sense of joy begin to fill her body. She inhaled the bedroom air as she took a look at the surroundings in front of her.

Everything was exactly the same as when she left.

Running, she leaped off the floor and onto the sheets of her bed, laughing at herself and her childish behavior. It was official, she was home.

Slowly rising from the bed, Samantha calmly walked around her bedroom, delicately touching all of her belongings, the walls, carpet, all of which she longed for over the past two years. This exact moment was so unimaginable to her, with all that had occurred it seemed as if she would never return to her habitat. But here she was, it was real and it was going to say that way – no matter what.

"Breakfast!"

Turning towards the door, Samantha smiled, having a nostalgic moment from the many times her mother use to call for the household to come to the table. She made a mental note to unpack later, right now she was going to enjoy her family time.

Samantha's first day back went all too quickly; the Gordon's began to reminisce and tell stories over the years missed together. They talked about recent activities, movies, school, California, work and everything in-between – except for one topic. They spent all day inside together, no complaints were made and no phone calls interrupted their deep conversations. Everything was undeniably perfect.

"Well," Samantha stretched her arms up, "I think it's time for me to go to bed. I have to be well rested for the playboy's charity event tomorrow."

"Now, now, Samantha, Bruce Wayne has done quite a lot for Gotham," Jim said as he ruffled Samantha' hair.

"He's cute too," Barbara chimed in, "You should go on a date with him."

Jim quickly shot his wife a dirty look, "I don't think so. Samantha isn't allowed to date until after she's married."

"Funny, dad," Samantha rolled her eyes, "how do you know that you're not a grandfather? I mean, I have been gone for two years."

Jim stood up, embracing Samantha into a goodnight hug, "Well in that case, I'll just have to lock you up in your room, blaring music from Disney singers."

"No, No, No!" Samantha laughed as she and her father let go.

Barbara kissed her daughter on her head, "Goodnight love. Welcome home."

Smiling at both her parents, Samantha turned around and headed towards her room, quickly getting ready and landing into her comfortable bed. The warmth of the covers embraced her and her eye responded by closing. Her breathing became steady and sooner than she excepted, she was into a deep slumber.

"No!" Samantha screamed as she shot up from her bed. Small beads of sweat ran down her forehead as she felt her heartbeat rapidly racing. Her breathing was irregular and the darkness that surrounded her only made her more on edge. Another nightmare had taken over her night. No sooner had she yelled out, her father raced in.

"What is it sweetheart," He asked as he pushed her brunette locks out of her face and sat next to her.

"Just a bad dream, nothing to worry about."

"Hardly sounds like just a bad dream. Was it the one about your parents again?"

Samantha slowly shook her head, "It wasn't anything in particular. It was just me, standing on the roof of a tall building, like I was about to jump. It just, it felt so real."

Jim kissed his daughter's forehead, "It's just all the excitement of the move that's got your subconscious racing. You're safe my dear, just remember that. Now, try and get some rest."

Nodding her head, Samantha adjusted herself in her bed, trying to recover from the previous scene. Part of her was too afraid to shut her eyes, another part of her felt guilty for lying to her father about the nightmare. She knew what really scared her would have frighten him, or worse, plant the idea in his mind that Samantha needed to go back to her therapist. Inhaling a deep breath, Samantha nestled in her bed as she looked forward to tomorrows events with the playboy himself.


End file.
